Living up to the hope - and the hype

"I recently had a discussion with someone who felt disappointed in Obama; he had not, this person complained, lived up to the high hopes of his supporters. My response apparently came as a surprise: I’m liking Obama more and more as he slogs through his second term."- Paul Krugman from his blog "The Conscience of a Liberal"

As is quite often the case, I find myself in agreement with Dr. Krugman.

I have mentioned here before that I was not a supporter of Barack Obama when he first ran for president. I supported Hillary Clinton and I was very disappointed that she did not win the Democratic Party's nomination in 2008.

After that, I became a grudging supporter of Obama. I voted for him of course. There was certainly no way I was going to vote for McCain and his ditsy sidekick, Palin, but I was never one of his starry-eyed supporters who thought that his election was going to change the world.

When he was elected, I was just glad to have an intelligent person in the White House, one who was able to speak in complete sentences and who didn't find it necessary to boast and swagger his way through his time in office.

Given the known proclivities of the Republican Party and the fact that they had spent eight long years destroying the economy and destroying the good will of the world toward this country, it didn't take a prophet to see that Obama's time in office was going to be difficult. Once the Republicans swore undying enmity and non-cooperation - the needs of the country be damned - it became even more obvious that Obama and his allies would have to fight tooth and nail for every inch of progress.

Still, in his first four years in office, he, with the help of Nancy Pelosi and Harry Reid, was able to accomplish quite a bit, including what was, in Joe Biden's immortal words, "a big fucking deal" in health care reform. He started to wind down America's interminable wars. He found and eliminated Osama bin Laden. He kept the country safe from further attacks by foreign terrorists. (Unfortunately, domestic terrorists and their guns are a harder problem to solve.)

Since I had no particular expectations of him, I was not often disappointed. I would have liked to have seen more leadership on the environment and especially on the problem of global warming, but given the denialism that is so pervasive in the country, that problem is every bit as difficult as our domestic terrorists and their guns.

It has been a battle every day of his presidency. You can see it in his gray hair and sometimes hear it in his voice. He is a serious man with serious goals that he wants to achieve, and whether I agree with him or not - and sometimes I don't - I am fully convinced that he will always do what he thinks is best for the country, regardless of the political implications.

So, yes, as I see him struggling against overwhelming odds, trying to accomplish something good for the country and for the world, he has earned my respect and I like him better than I did on election day 2008.

With two years to go, I don't see his battle getting any easier, but, in the end, I think it will be won, and, even if he hasn't managed to live up to the hope and the hype of his most fervent early supporters, he will have been a good president and he will have earned a well-deserved rest.

And I believe that history will remember him kindly.

Poetry Sunday: Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver

How about we share another Mary Oliver poem? After all, you can never have too many of those. In this one, the poet seems to acknowledge that it is often hard to simply live in and enjoy the moment, perhaps because we are afraid it can't last. She urges us to give in to that moment and fully experience the joy. Although "much can never be redeemed, still, life has some possibility left." Don't Hesitate by Mary Oliver If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it. There are plenty of lives and whole towns destroyed or about to be. We are not wise, and not very often kind. And much can never be redeemed. Still, life has some possibility left. Perhaps this is its way of fighting back, that sometimes something happens better than all the riches or power in the world. It could be anything, but very likely you notice it in the instant when love begins. Anyway, that’s often the case. Anyway, whatever it is, don’t be afraid of its plenty. Joy is no...

Poetry Sunday: Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney

My mother was a farm wife and a prodigious canner. She canned fruit and vegetables from the garden, even occasionally meat. But the best thing that she canned, in my opinion, was blackberry jam. Even as I type those words my mouth waters! Of course, before she could make that jam, somebody had to pick the blackberries. And that somebody was quite often named Dorothy. I think Seamus Heaney might have spent some time among the briars plucking those delicious black fruits as well, so he would have known that "Once off the bush the fruit fermented, the sweet flesh would turn sour." They don't keep; you have to get that jam made in a hurry! Blackberry-Picking by Seamus Heaney Late August, given heavy rain and sun For a full week, the blackberries would ripen. At first, just one, a glossy purple clot Among others, red, green, hard as a knot. You ate that first one and its flesh was sweet Like thickened wine: summer's blood was in it Leaving stains upon the tongue and lust ...

Poetry Sunday: Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman

You probably remember poet Amanda Gorman from her appearance at the inauguration of President Biden. She read her poem "The Hill We Climb" on that occasion. After the senseless slaughter in Uvalde this week, she was inspired to write another poem which was published in The New York Times. It seemed perfect for the occasion and so I stole it in order to feature it here, just in case you didn't get a chance to read it in the Times . Hymn for the Hurting by Amanda Gorman Everything hurts, Our hearts shadowed and strange, Minds made muddied and mute. We carry tragedy, terrifying and true. And yet none of it is new; We knew it as home, As horror, As heritage. Even our children Cannot be children, Cannot be. Everything hurts. It’s a hard time to be alive, And even harder to stay that way. We’re burdened to live out these days, While at the same time, blessed to outlive them. This alarm is how we know We must be altered — That we must differ or die, That we must triumph or try. ...

The Nature of Things

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